


Unassuming

by Kalira



Category: Naruto
Genre: (briefly) - Freeform, (no one we care about is harmed), Body Horror, Canon Setting, Discord: Umino Hours, Fluff, Gen, Gore, Kidnapping, M/M, Monsters, People being eaten, Terror, Umino Hours Winter Bingo, Umino Hours Winter Bingo 2020-2021
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-04
Updated: 2020-12-04
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:01:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27883423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kalira/pseuds/Kalira
Summary: A pair of enterprising nukenin bit off more than they could chew with this particular plan of theirs . . . not to worry, though - Irukaneverbites off more than he can chew.
Relationships: Hatake Kakashi/Umino Iruka
Comments: 16
Kudos: 124
Collections: Kalira's Iruka Winter Bingo Stories (2020-2021), The Umino Hours Winter Bingo 2020





	Unassuming

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the space 'See Your Breath' on my [Iruka Winter Bingo](https://kalira.dreamwidth.org/33520.html) card!
> 
>  _Please_ mind the tags!

“When’s he going to _wake up_?” Kenji asked, kicking dully at the log they’d tied Umino up against, and Shinji rolled his eyes even as he tugged his jacket a little closer around himself. One of the buttons had come loose recently, and now the damned thing kept letting in gusts of cold air. _No_ patience, Kenji had.

“You’re the one who knocked him out, you think maybe you did it too hard?” Shinji suggested dryly. It had been the plan to take him with a trap, but. . . Even if they hadn’t been forced to adjust things on the fly, he would have been unconscious. Waiting was simply a necessary part of the process. “Or maybe you should just _be prepared to wait_ , he was knocked out, it takes time. We have time.” He grinned. “The bank we stand to make off the information we can get out of his head? We definitely have time.”

“I still think there are better ways we could have gone for it, if we were going to go to all the trouble of catching a Konoha nin.” Kenji sulked with a huff of breath that fogged into a winding plume before him, the jutsu they’d used to prevent any such signs worn off some time ago. Kenji turned his sword over and over again restlessly, polishing invisible specks off the metal. The already gleaming metal.

Shinji resisted the urge to remind him - again - that highly polished, reflective weaponry was a horrible giveaway for a team that generally worked in shadows and sneak attacks. Kenji had been forced to knock out Umino - and the way he had, with a direct strike to his neck at the base of his skull, rather than something more refined - because he’d been _spotted_.

It was a strong point, but Shinji wasn’t really in the mood to fight with Kenji over it again, knowing it would make no difference in the end regardless. “Who would you say holds the most power, the most secrets, in a hidden village?” he asked, idly checking the binds on Umino again.

They were secure, of course, chakra wire wrapped around his wrists and forearms, and, just to be cautious, also slipped between some of his fingers - there would be no shaping hand seals, no surprises from Umino.

“The Clans. I guess the Clan heads more than anyone.” Kenji said with another huff, then shook his head impatiently, squinting to see through the puff of fog and raising his sword.

“And this Academy sensei,” Shinji took hold of Umino’s head and waggled it between his hands, “has taught _all_ the current Clan heads or their heirs. Who do you think could best give us a way to get to them than the person who _taught them the basics_? The skills all their later prowess is founded upon?”

“You think we can get it out of _him_?” Kenji asked, and Shinji sighed, releasing Umino and straightening.

“It’s certainly easier to pick the brains of one chuunin than track down highly-ranked, _riskier_ targets without even laying the foundation of a plan of attack first.” Shinji said sharply, then paused, turning back. A smirk tugged at his lips. “Besides, he spends all his spare time overseeing the Archives and the Konohagakure _mission desk_ \- we should be able to get some useful information to put towards a few . . . _lucrative_ ambushes, if nothing else.”

Kenji grinned, stroking his sword and eyeing Umino.

Shinji gestured and Kenji moved closer. Umino was waking up, Shinji thought with anticipation. He was stirring faintly, his breathing heavier - enough to fog up a little beneath his hanging head as he twitched, his hair shivering with the tiny movements.

Shinji moved to make a blocked-off formation with Kenji on the other side - Umino wouldn’t be able to watch them both fully at once, and it would make him nervous. It was hard for people to watch their words, their body language, when they were trying to track multiple threats, multiple people interrogating them - multiple sources of potential blows.

Shinji shifted his posture and waited as Umino jerked, shoulders tensing, then let out a thin whine, panting. His whole body shook with his breaths, and Shinji could just see his face in the flickering light of their lanterns, his eyes wide open and his expression dazed.

A good place to start. Dazed, lost, confused, hurt . . . an easy step from there to frightened, stupid, compliant.

“Umino.” Shinji said, voice carefully flat, and Umino shuddered, shifting slowly and moving to sit up, his shoulders and neck a little looser than they should be. Shinji glanced at Kenji; he’d probably _hit too hard_ , and honestly he should know better.

Hopefully Umino wasn’t too dazed to be of use. If it took a while or he was confused that was one thing, but if he were _damaged_. . . Shinji stifled an irritated groan and took one step closer as Umino focused on him with some apparent difficulty.

“Little desk nin.” Shinji said with a scoff, and Umino twitched, legs tensing as though he were trying to rise. Shinji let his laughter rise enough to be heard easily. “Going so soon? Oh, I think not. Can’t just let you _go_ so easily, not when you’re so _useful_. . .”

Kenji jumped in before Shinji could ask a question, and Umino looked over at him. Shinji took advantage and went with it, and they switched off with their threats, their explanation, each of them moving just enough to keep Umino on edge, glancing back and forth between them, tensing.

It was an easy routine, a rhythm they’d been playing together for several years.

They kept it up when they started asking questions, working around things they wanted to know, breaking down Umino’s defences and keeping him struggling, feeling slow as they took turns hitting him with questions, answers, threats. Umino wasn’t giving them anything useful yet, but that wasn’t the aim just yet - they’d get there.

They always did.

It was easy to keep going, a rhythm that baffled and alarmed, until Umino was no longer fighting quite so much to keep up. Shinji swallowed a laugh and flicked a look at his partner, but Kenji had already noticed the same thing he had. Umino was beginning to wear thin, to give in. Time to move on to the next stage, then.

Kenji toyed with his blade, smirking with that half-crazed tilt to his mouth, moving closer to Umino, not quite offering an overt threat but a clear hint at one. Umino watched him, and Kenji flipped his sword and swung it in small arcs, the lantern light flashing on the stupidly-shiny length of the blade.

Kenji invited attention to it, demanded it be admired, and then nearly laid open Umino’s face with a casual swipe of it, his grin growing sharper. When Umino was almost entirely focused on Kenji, and his sword, _Shinji_ moved forwards and dealt a blow.

Umino slammed against the log, his bonds holding him tight even as he folded forwards, wheezing a foggy cloud of warm breath in the chill air, and Kenji demanded the first real piece of information they wanted. His blade was dancing between his hands and Shinji had backed off a couple of paces but he waited there, shifting his weight, ready to deal another blow. It was a system to break down their-

Umino started _laughing_ , low and almost muted at first, then louder, spiking into something half-mad, and Shinji stilled, glancing at Kenji and then back at Umino a little nervously, staring. Shinji had _seen_ people break from strain and capture before, even quicker than this - though not often - but something about this. . .

Chills ran up his spine and something deep in the pit of his stomach curled with nausea, shot through with a spike of unpleasant alarm. Umino looked up, dark eyes only just visible peeking through his fringe where it hung forwards around his face - the initial struggle to subdue him had loosened his hair in its ridiculously perky tail, and some of it had fallen to obscure parts of his face now, but even as they cast deeper shadows, the light of the lanterns still revealed his eyes peeking through.

Those eyes. . .

There was something _not right_ about them, the shadowy dark both somehow _too intense_ and his eyes _too bright_ for the night around them, even with the two lanterns.

Umino _grinned_ , his laugh wild and loud, his teeth showing as his smile stretched across his face. And then more, uncomfortably wide and _wider_ , going _much too far_ -

This was just a _chuunin_ in front of them, Shinji thought wildly; a chuunin _Academy sensei_ who barely ever left his village! One they had _captured_ , and with not too much difficulty, either, even if he’d fought back enough to make them scramble a little. He’d still gone down, it hadn’t even taken long, and-

“He’s a desk nin!” Kenji said, voice a little too sharp and high.

“A _chuunin_ desk nin,” Shinji said firmly, swallowing, spiking his chakra to break a genjutsu even though Umino _couldn’t_ have cast one, and reaching for the comfortingly familiar rhythm of the commentary and threats he and Kenji used, even for a _shadow_ of it, as nothing changed, “you- you teach at the Academy and you handle _paperwork_ -”

Shinji struggled to find a solid thread to follow, his voice unsteady and unsure.

Umino’s laugh spiked and his mouth opened wider as he lashed out, breaking free of the bonds holding him with a spray of blood. Shinji jerked away before he had even fully tracked the movement and Kenji- Kenji was making a gurgling, choking noise only a few steps away, still in his position for the interrogation setup they had used tonight as they had so many times before.

Shinji realised, feeling a harsh block in his throat, that the blood was not from Umino breaking the bonds, ripping his own flesh against the chakra wire that had restrained him - no, it was Kenji’s.

His heart clenched and his own blood ran cold as he turned to keep his eyes on Umino, reaching for a weapon. His eyes wouldn’t quite _focus_ on the man, sliding off somehow, and Kenji was screaming through the smothering wet sound that must be _his own blood_ and-

**_“There you are, little nin. Going so soon?”_ **

Shinji was face to face, suddenly, with eyes like an endless void picked with tiny points that were _not_ stars, but a strange shifting swirl of _something moving in the depths_ , and he _screamed_ , scrambling backwards, his sword falling from his nerveless fingers even as he tumbled to the earth himself. Shinji reached out, but he couldn’t quite manage to look for his sword, and it was beyond the brush of his fingers. He stared into that inhuman, monstrous darkness, a vision of endless worlds of death.

Mouth wide and showing too many teeth, all of them sharp and long, Umino laughed again, somehow soft this time. His breath formed a soft little puff of a cloud in the cold night, the fog of it half-obscuring his face even from where Shinji was sprawled below him and that was even _worse_ , Shinji thought as he struggled to flee even without managing to regain his feet, fingers sinking into something . . . hot . . . and wet. . .

Shinji felt bile rise, looking to find that his fingers were sinking into something that had spilled in a wash of blood from Kenji’s stomach, freshly rent asunder in gaping, ragged wounds. Kenji wasn’t screaming any more, but Shinji’s voice cracked as it grew even louder as though to compensate, and he hauled himself to his feet with more panic than control, feeling Kenji’s blood and something more - thick, ragged, grainy - between his toes as he bolted.

**_“Oh no, you promised such things . . . I can’t simply let you go. . .”_ **

Shinji got three steps before something caught his shoulder, and he retched, shaking, before going utterly still as he was turned to face-

That wasn’t Umino, it _couldn’t be_ , a tiny corner of his mind gibbered. Umino was a skilled chuunin but he was a _chuunin_ , one who handled mostly paperwork and taught children, without the stomach to pull even many of the types of missions appropriate to his rank. _This_ was. . .

The soft cloud of the creature’s breath dissipated as it lunged forwards, too many teeth framing not a mouth and throat but only the same endless stretch of shifting shadows as showed in those _eyes_ , and Shinji thought he was still screaming but he wasn’t sure. He thought he was still struggling, _running_ , but how-

The blackness wrapped around him, bounded by teeth, and Shinji _did_ scream but the sound fell dead in his throat and then-

The nothingness around him closed tighter, the teeth slicing through flesh and coming up against bone with a jarring, agonising scrape. Shinji gasped and choked on blood, bubbling in his throat, trying to voice another scream as blackness loomed from inside him as well and . . . everything . . . went. . .

_Red._

* * *

Iruka logged his return at the gates and didn’t hesitate before turning directly towards home afterwards; he could report in officially in the morning, he had no news that needed addressing. His simple mission had taken a few . . . unexpected turns, and it had been a long day - he had already made his decision after a _very_ brief internal debate on his run back to the village.

It was so nice to step back into his own apartment, even if his mission hadn’t kept him away for long. He felt a tug of sympathy for the way his lover looked when he slouched in upon returning most times after his own missions.

Iruka barely had to think to raise the wards once more behind himself, and he made his way straight through the apartment without turning on any lights. It was quiet, even as he approached the bedroom, and Iruka opened the door and slipped inside silently, hoping not to disturb his lover.

A soft rustle from the bed made Iruka pause, the zipper of his flak vest halfway down.

“Koibito? Iruka, what happened?” Kakashi asked, yawning, turning over almost onto his back to look at Iruka in the dark. There was a dull red glow as he opened his Sharingan, just long enough to get a good look at Iruka before he closed it again. Good, he overstrained himself with the damned thing enough already. “You’re back late.”

“Just a little complication on my scouting run.” Iruka said softly, shedding his uniform and the rest of his gear, letting it all fall to the floor. He could deal with it in the morning. He climbed into bed to join his waiting lover, sighing as he stretched out, sliding his legs under the blankets, brushing along Kakashi’s own along the way.

“. . .koibito?” Kakashi asked sleepily, reaching up and rubbing a thumb over the corner of Iruka’s lips. He realised as Kakashi’s hand drew away that he had been rubbing at a smear of blood, and hummed, lips curving.

“It’s nothing, darling.” Iruka said softly, licking Kakashi’s thumb - a faint burst of terror and pain on his tongue, carried in the tang of the blood; he smiled wider - and twining their fingers. “Go back to sleep.”

Kakashi stretched lazily as Iruka settled down at his side, turning away again and offering Iruka his back. He growled softly, a tiny contented murmur, as Iruka curled around him, arm settling around his waist, tucking their clasped hands up near his chest.

Kakashi’s heart was slow and steady against Iruka’s chest and under their twined hands, his body lax as he cuddled into Iruka’s embrace. Soft and warm and trusting.

Iruka kissed Kakashi’s shoulder, closing his eyes as he buried his face in wild silver hair and purring, deep, deep down, as he settled in to sleep.


End file.
